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"homonym" poems
Homonym creation by son dark terror Dark sun templar strides empty He was born in the sewers Preaching to orphans Selling them drugs Crash landing Foreign Exchange Export/Extract Blood/Money Lawyer no habla ingles Wife beating wincest victim/winner Always liked the devil better
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Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 8:47 PM UTC
Yourself
Sober, or hungover One or the other I’ll take a stab at writing Something that’s too good Not to know And I’ve heard “I don’t know” So Many times This past month I fee like am starting to You know, Know I know you have none of my answers I know my questions have been spot on I know my effort has been worthy I know As much as you do You were my darlin’ Queen, the star of the show Now you are someone elses princess But you are still my Queen The Queen of “ I don’t know” Reconciliation A leap of faith Growth and Humility Laughter and happiness These are more than things I know They are my unrewarded actions Will my attraction To you ever waver? Will I ever return the favor? Are we friends or does that even matter? I wont ask these questions Because I know the answer And its not "no" Homonym, not vernacular Yes it is You know?
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Apr 27, 2013
Apr 27, 2013 at 7:32 PM UTC
The Queen of "I Don't Know"
you used to make me feel like i was in flight; above the clouds, with the breeze in my hair, and no one around so i could actually be myself for once nowadays, when i see you, it make me feel like i’ve fallen down a flight of stairs; all tangled up inside and broken in all the wrong places sometimes, i wish i could forget you but then i remember i’ve avoided a lot of train wrecks because of our atom bomb we were the first of mine, you know, the first to make me commit as big a mistake as the ******* manhattan project you ******* me up more than you can imagine i lay waste for months, with no sign of human life, or, life of my own, at least i threw myself into the care of plants and cats and writing love songs with terrible lyrics telling tales of people who weren’t us; of people who never fought. of people would never leave the stove on because something more exciting was going on in life outside i used to feel like i was always close to you, to the world, to a bigger idea, but now, when i think of you, i feel like the bigger things are ominously closing in on me closer, closer, too close, crushingly, and you were always so physical
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Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 1:57 AM UTC
homonym warfare
ABC. These have little worth compared To their homonym.
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Aug 15, 2011
Aug 15, 2011 at 7:29 PM UTC
Letters
There is an old homonym used in this poem e.g. “habit”. Its usage in the opening lines is something I wrote on a napkin decades ago. It creates a pleasant ambiguity in the mix. Homonyms are words that are spelled and sound the same but have different meanings. The question is, it a nun’s habit or just a good/bad habit? “The truth is that everyone is bored, and devotes himself to cultivating habits.” Albert Camus Take a look at this old habit I know it’s worn, I’ve had it for years It’s tattered and torn in all the right places Cost me a dime and a lifetime of tears Transforming my soul it is worn with respect Counting the memories it passes the test Round the corner off the end of the bend My shivering tears contend with the rain Mentions of settlements wrought in pain Never will I ever be here again Deliver me now to the dragon’s lair I don’t even care if it’s not really there Made a hat to match from a well weathered mat I tossed it aside to the place where it’s at Never again will I tread on this time “Buyer beware” of this train of thought It could cost you a page From your own weathered book so Never forget when you came on this chance And never believe you can get it all back
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Apr 8, 2017
Apr 8, 2017 at 6:20 PM UTC
My Elusive Habit
Cynthia's gone Across this universe. And, if there is a heaven, She'll never have To deal with Lennon. He called her Cyn, A name with Quite a homonym For deeds that once Defined him, Before he was A man.
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Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 3:03 PM UTC
Cynthia, RIP
Now and then I think of you, That soft smile you left me with. Now and then, I wish I could Say that it's okay, I understand, That if you have to go, Believe me that nobody Will understand The way that I can. I knew I should beware of you, This illusory complex that I wanted to be you. And, still, when you knocked upon my door, I answered your call. But sunny days will always set, my dear, I just didn’t know that You’d make always come so soon. Blame it on that sunny afternoon, But I did, and maybe still do… I really used to believe in you. But it seems like this forgiveness Is about faith, and knowledge, And knowing when you’re too far behind, And when to let go, And how to make the best of a cliff That may take a decade to climb. Yes, I think it’s about Forgiveness, And faith, And you and me, And how to be free, And cutting you off Like a hundred-year-old tree. Now and then, you’re on my mind; The things you said Were only my religion, my life, But now and then I remember: That it’s not about who you let your guard down to, But why you became so vulnerable in the first place. All the same, despite my campaign, Some things just remain Burned into your memory. Like two words the same but worlds apart- Your memory is a homonym of my very own heart. But it’s okay, I understand, My will is not your will, just Rest assured that I will always Love you like nobody will. Now and then, I feel like a fool. These letters and boxes of what once was Seem so dark and deceiving, And now and then I wonder how long It would take to make them full again. But it’s okay, I understand. There’s no use in pretending That this grey cloud’s not looming; Maybe someday it won’t rain. But, now and then, I’ve got to pay, Because you’re gone, And that’s the way it will stay.
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Oct 18, 2012
Oct 18, 2012 at 5:22 PM UTC
Now and Then
Now and then I think of you, That soft smile you left me with. Now and then, I wish I could Say that it's okay, I understand, That if you have to go, Believe me that nobody Will understand The way that I can. I knew I should beware of you, This illusory complex that I wanted to be you. And, still, when you knocked upon my door, I answered your call. But sunny days will always set, my dear, I just didn’t know that You’d make always come so soon. Blame it on that sunny afternoon, But I did, and maybe still do… I really used to believe in you. But it seems like this forgiveness Is about faith, and knowledge, And knowing when you’re too far behind, And when to let go, And how to make the best of a cliff That may take a decade to climb. Yes, I think it’s about Forgiveness, And faith, And you and me, And how to be free, And cutting you off Like a hundred-year-old tree. Now and then, you’re on my mind; The things you said Were only my religion, my life, But now and then I remember: That it’s not about who you let your guard down to, But why you became so vulnerable in the first place. All the same, despite my campaign, Some things just remain Burned into your memory. Like two words the same but worlds apart- Your memory is a homonym of my very own heart. But it’s okay, I understand, My will is not your will, just Rest assured that I will always Love you like nobody will. Now and then, I feel like a fool. These letters and boxes of what once was Seem so dark and deceiving, And now and then I wonder how long It would take to make them full again. But it’s okay, I understand. There’s no use in pretending That this grey cloud’s not looming; Maybe someday it won’t rain. But, now and then, I’ve got to pay, Because you’re gone, And that’s the way it will stay.
Continue reading...
59
Smile on her face, She just 69'ed No not ****** tho Astrological kind Homonym **** It rots her mind Body and spirit Life's a decline.
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Aug 30, 2015
Aug 30, 2015 at 6:04 AM UTC
From The End Of June To The End Of July.
I am ink faces and paper traces vowels and consonants arranged in molecules and red splotches vascular and musculature an anthem to all of us. Homonym hymn religious syllables silliness nouns non- meaning me I am composed and disarrayed like an alphabet scattered into a wind . A Bic pen running out , skipping, writing, for a lack of paper on the back of poems written before, I need a Quill and inkwell, one thousand trees to reach my destiny.
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Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 12:31 AM UTC
I am ink faces
Rolling in wave upon wave of words. Sentences dressed right, en echelon, like pretty hued soldiers with armor and frills of meaning unfurled. I can see their smiles gleam with the slap-dash of their waving standards. The gypsy, unzips her paragraph like the Red Sea before Moses; she has rewritten the song of the seducing hand that writes the words, that pens the curve of a gentle wrist, that drains of the belletristic wells of the heart. All to flow from Egypt through the canyon of the mind, Weathered words, crumbled from the cave of allegory Sliced from the loaf of pharaohs love. Flow on river, flow by leaving green brush in the crags where eagles nest. Friend of ****** swelled by spells of copulation Hers is the scent that draws the sleeping bear From carnal dreams, dripping blood-words. Bleed for waxing moon, bleed the scent of still stars, oh do I love this vicious bearer of words in sun struck birth. Die dear gypsy on the battlefield of parchment Expel the reek of your pen impaled body Rise hoary hope on the wind inhaled by God. He who draws her up, heart first Through those once read lips, but forever colored… Red, red! For they are still read by my heart Hewn homonym from the hue of her lips kiss There is a silent word mouthed in this nymphs holler. And I press my ear closer to that womb. To read, to read… listen please, my erudite heart.
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Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 3:01 AM UTC
My Erudite Heart
If they wrote about me, The narrator might explain The dangers of exponential decay; Of how I might give my soul As tribute. He may call me A slave to substance, In more eloquent terms, And to the inevitable pitfall Where one hits rock bottom But resurrects three days later. The second coming, But not as pure: The heroine, but a homonym.
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Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 12:55 AM UTC
breaking bad
are words     never invented - the vastness of letters all twenty six are not many to convey         how vast clear a blue sky can be nor deep the depth        no homonym exists the antonym is not found in a dictionary or Thesauraus and will never be to describe in fullness       the heart or truth existing on Mother's Earth though, the Bard, was close to seeing. I once awoke, with another tongue, composed in my head a rhyme,        of purest gold never seen before  a tome of time and me. But, my words, were composed of letters from an alphabet not yet invented. I could not write them down. I sleep all the time, now, me.
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Dec 14, 2014
Dec 14, 2014 at 7:58 PM UTC
so un- big enough
I seem to only measure time in units of when I last saw you. black holes only devour what you feed them, but I still try to fill this cavity in my chest with your words, with your love, with your presence. sometimes feeling whole is only the homonym taking its place. I gave up the sunlight to lay in this grave. I turned my back on life to continue courting my demise. but now, I give up my grave to bask in your warmth. I give you the words of love I used to save for death’s ears. I give up parts of myself to fill in your blanks, and though so much of me is missing, I am better when you are whole.
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Mar 5, 2016
Mar 5, 2016 at 2:02 AM UTC
trade-offs
I gotta, gotta new me… **** so you really let this dude let me get high roaded And you didnt mind looking in the rearview The sound of that car sound so uncanny Because it shoulda been us… but as long as your new vigilante Will keep tribal dancing 'round your fire And will keep making your blood rush The band-aid will eventually fall off It's all just a withdrawal! Blrr, blrr, beep Hey, man, wassup, how you doing? Havent heard from you in a minute, bro I know you've been cut And how you been feeling like a storm drain just above water But you know these hoes be looking for their own homonym Haha, you get what I mean? Yea, bet you do, but hey, chin up, aight? Dont loose your groove You'll keep grinding your teeth Gimmie a call, bud, and talk about what's underneath Peace
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Mar 10, 2018
Mar 10, 2018 at 4:24 PM UTC
teeth (or: kneeling before my bed)
Compliments compliment a yearning for love But the leaves leave, like everyone. Even from earth, space spaces things out Sullen faces face the rising sun Eerie silence silently patters the surface Blue and black suits suit him best It’s hardly hard to walk among the rest Seasons season a life of despair The buckle buckles after years and years Our clutter clutters our heart and our mind. However many roses rose from cracks he passed by. Only his net nets a sense of worth.. Tears welling well into the cold, empty night A glass of bitters, bitter against the palette Feelings of dying dyes his kaleidoscope eyes. Plotting plot notes of a final farewell... Would his passing pass by everyone’s eyes?
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Jan 10, 2020
Jan 10, 2020 at 11:40 PM UTC
Paths Paved (A homonym poem)